


We Little Gods

by astronavigatrix



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Also: Hinata is a Hot Girl Magnet, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Getting Together, Hinata Shouyou cementing his place as Nishinoya Yuu's favorite Kouhai, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Hinata isn't always the smartest, It's the big ol' puppy eyes, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, but he sure is good with people, mentions of colorism, wingman hinata shouyou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronavigatrix/pseuds/astronavigatrix
Summary: It's funny how sometimes, it's the little things that can make you feel at home in a new country, a new city, and a whole new life.orNishinoya thinks Hinata Shouyou's superpower is that he makes friends with just about everyone he meets.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Original Female Character(s), Haiba Lev/Original Female Character(s), Hinata Shouyou & Nishinoya Yuu, Hinata Shouyou & Original Female Character(s), Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nishinoya Yuu/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	We Little Gods

**Author's Note:**

> what happened to noya in the time skip is an insult and i simply do not vibe with it

  
  
  
The night before he has to be back at school, Nishinoya can barely sleep. Excitement runs rampant under his skin in a way that he can't quite get rid of with just willpower. He doesn't have it in him, physically, to stay up late, but he definitely wants to. He's up before dawn instead, needing to do something, anything, to get the energy out so he can try and get a bit more sleep. He decides to on a jog, because it's something he can do without having to think too hard about it. Given the current time, he can hardly be faulted.  
  
This early, the air is muggy and the temperature is just enough above lukewarm to make the moisture in the air uncomfortable. Outside of the comfort of his home, he swiftly finds his determination for his run waning. He refuses to give up before hitting at least the halfway mark though, and pushes himself onward through a yawn and the encroaching wave of sleepiness. He considers himself lucky that the sun is muted and hazy despite barely being up. Too late does he realize what it means when combined with the pervasive humidity. Rounding a corner and staring up at the hill he needs to conquer before his pride will let him consider a retreat, he hesitates. The sky does not, breaking open with what starts as a light sprinkle and rapidly becomes a downpour.  
  
Heading back home is suddenly much less a matter of pride- he can't so much as _think_ about playing if he gets sick, after all.  
  
Lightning streaks across the sky and his pace becomes more urgent, eyes flickering upward briefly. That brief moment of distraction costs him, and he stumbles over a grate turned slick in the deluge. Flailing with an undignified squawk, he manages to catch himself against a light pole. Grateful to not have met the ground face-first, he straightens with every intent of continuing back at top speed. Eyes lifting to double check what street he's on, he's instead met with a streak of movement, a lithe figure in charcoal and lilac darting across his vision. They land in a crouch in front of him, seeming not to even notice him. He must make a nose of surprise because the person (a girl, he realizes) half-turns, and he catches the swing of a long, messy braid and a flash of pale eyes. Then she's dashing across the street, hopping a nearby garden wall like its barely an obstacle, taking her out of sight. He manages to make it back home in one piece after that, but even as he gets ready to crawl back into bed, he can't stop thinking about those pale, pale eyes.  
  
To his surprise, he catches sight of her again on the way to school. Her eyes are low-lidded under arched brows as she steps out of the conbini and spots him, seeming to remember him too. There's a popsicle (peach garigari-kun!) in her mouth. Standing out against her tanned skin, her pale eyes flick quickly over him, probably curious about why he's out again after earlier. She tilts her head at the sight of his over-stuffed bag, strands of inky black hair sticking to her cheek and then raises her hand in a lackadaisical fist. He notices, as two of her fingers unfurl slowly, that the hair on that side of her face is stark white, accented by the sharp angles of her hime cut.  
  
"Ganbatte," she drawls in a low, honey-smooth voice, bringing his attention back to the here and now. He stutters in his flustered attempt to say something (anything!) back but can't bring up anything that sounds nearly cool enough. She's already traipsing up the hill by the time he settles on something simple, school bag swinging slowly against her legs. Only then does he notice the fukuro over her shoulder, standing even taller than she does. He snaps his mouth shut, knowing she won't hear him if he speaks, and continues on.  
  
When he tells Tanaka later, on the way to homeroom, the other boy only laughs at him for not being able to even say thanks.  
  
Thankfully, he's too busy to give the girl more than a passing thought over the course of the rest of the day. There are more important things to worry about, in the grand scheme of things, and he can't afford the distraction. However, passing though they may be, the thoughts are still there. The understanding shadow in her eyes as she saw his equipment, the slight curve of her lips in approval. The earnest encouragement in that single, early-morning cheer. Her voice curls across his consciousness as he shakes himself back to the present, alongside his own internal rallying cries, spurring him ever forward. Despite himself, he can't help but wonder, once or twice, what it would be like to be cheered on in earnest.  
  
The thought alone is almost enough to send him reeling and decides it's best to set that train of thought aside entirely.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
If her first day at school is any indicator of how the rest of her time there is going to go, she'd rather go back to being home-schooled.  
  
The train ride there is too long (not really, but she could have enjoyed that extra twenty minutes of sleep) but it's filled with sideways glances and low murmurs that she's sure she's not meant to hear but she does. She resolves to bring her headphones from then on, but the sour taste some of the comments leave in her mouth remains as she disembarks to walk the rest of the way to her school. Her mother had made sure to write her directions just in case she forgot, but thankfully the couple of treks they've taken there to take her placement tests and enroll her have seared the most direct route into her brain. She reports to the office as instructed, and waits patiently while her homeroom teacher gathers up her things. The older woman compliments her on how nice the uniform looks on her, probably to try and make her feel like she belongs, but even dressed almost identically to everyone else, she knows she sticks out. She always has.  
  
That she's shorter for her age than average has always been true, but in Japan that's been less of an issue. What's been _more_ of one, however, has been her near-perpetual tan  
  
"What's with your hair?" One of her classmates asks a she finished her introduction, making her purse her lips and look askance. The shift of her head reveals the sharp white slant of the outside edge of her eyebrow, and that earns a startled noise from the person nearest her.  
  
"It's genetic," she imparts calmly, and though most of them seem to settle after that, she can spot a couple sharing disbelieving and (for some reason?) unimpressed looks.  
  
She's almost thankful her classmates stop being curious about her foreignness after her tenth or so polite non-answer to comments about how strange it is that her hair (and her eyebrow, and half her eyelashes on one eye) grow like that. About how she must be confident if she's not worried about how all that sun she must have taken for her tan will affect her skin— the types of things that are more thinly-veiled insults than real curiosity. She's almost glad there are no boys here to worry about; if she had to hear any awkward fumbling about how 'unique' some guy thought her looks were (she'd gotten enough of that on the trains over the weekend) she'd probably snap. Come lunchtime, her classmates split into groups to eat or wander around, some pull out books and review with their friends. No one invites her to join them, and she doesn't bother with trying to insert herself into any groups.  
  
Instead, she pulls out her phone and looks through her photo album while she eats, wishing she could be at Yokota with her friends.  
  
If there's one thing to look forward to, it's after school, when she slips into the office to ask the location of the only club she's interested in with excitement buzzing under her skin. Excitement that is dashed, immediately, when she's informed that the school's naginata team, due to a lack of members, had been disbanded.  
  
"There's plenty of other clubs," the advisor says apologetically, and she flinches back at the narrow-eyed look sent her way as the young giel shifts her school bag and her fukuro, shaking her head. The steely disapproval is gone, replaced by quiet (but bitter) resignation. She doesn't want 'another club'. Part of the reason she'd even come here was the fact that they _had_ a naginata team. With that off the table, she's already considering how much it matters if she keeps going to school.   
  
"Not interested," she replies and, with a short bow, decides she'll practice on her own regardless.  
  
It's not like anyone can stop her.  
  
Her blazer and hoodie come off, and she settles beneath a tree, naginata held aloft and breathing contained. People stare as they pass by, but she ignores them— thinks she'll have to learn to do it better while she's here— and begins to move. The glide of wood beneath her fingers as her hands slide into a comforting, familiar tempo of positioning and repositioning with each repetition is calming. Cathartic. The closest she'll get to working through the irritation at having the _one_ thing she'd been looking forward to disappear. She can't even pretend she's not disappointed— she'd spend weeks looking into how school tournaments worked, had been planning on how best to handle the length of her hair according to the guidelines.  
  
Boys at the gate, waiting for their girlfriends to appear, eye her curiously but don't say anything, though one lingers a bit longer than most, until his girlfriend yanks him away, fuming.  
  
She isn't looking forward to dealing with that in the future.  
  
Eventually a teacher stops her motions with a hand on her shoulder, nearly earning the heel of her palm to the chin, and tells her she can't just practice out here in the open. All the spaces are occupied though, and they both know it, and she doubts any of the clubs would be willing to share. The school isn't big, despite its apparent prestige, so if she wants to do something, she'll have to try and get the members for a club herself. She bares her teeth, bites out that she shouldn't _have_ to do the school's work when they advertised the club on the website, in their flyers, only to disband it at their leisure. She gets an exasperated look in return, a self-satisfied response about how 'she'll understand why it was necessary when she's older', and shrugs off their hand with a scoff. Practicing by herself doesn't feel quite right anyway, and even though she says she'll stop soon, she keeps at it until she hears some of the other clubs beginning to be dismissed.  
  
She doesn't really put her all into it.  
  
The decision to try and practice means that her walk back to the train station takes a bit longer in the growing dark, and that she has to pay close attention to what stations are coming up so she doesn't go too far, but it's the only thing she enjoys about the entirety of the day. Leaning her cheek on her hand as she watches the lamps flicker to life along the rails, she sighs, tapping her fingers against her schoolbag slowly.  
  
She wonders if it's too late to make her parents reconsider making her go to 'real' school.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Hinata Shouyou is, among a great many other less flattering things one might say, a kind person. His is the sort of kindness that comes without real thought or hesitation, and very little consideration for the possible consequences, but is usually so well-intentioned that he can't be faulted for it. In the case of the frowning girl in the only sort-of familiar uniform he spots on his way home from the first practice with his new senpai, this will eventually become a good thing.  
  
_Eventually_.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
His voice seems to startle her, making her fingers tighten on the long, thin bag hoisted onto her shoulder as she looks away from the street sign and toward him. Once he's close enough, he finds she's even smaller than she'd seemed from the slight distance between them. (He can only hope he doesn't look as delighted as he feels.) Receiving a wary stare as he rolls his bike to a stop in front of her, he gives her a bright, hopeful smile, attempting to radiate nothing but good intentions. It must work, because she takes a breath and huffs it out, shifting the bag higher and giving a slightly frustrated grimace passing as a smile in return.  
  
"I'm a little," the hesitation in her voice is minimal, but present, "turned around." So she's lost, Hinata translates, but manages not to laugh. Instead he nods, encouraging, and prompts her silently to go on. "I just moved here a little bit ago, and my phone's not hooked up yet or else I'd just GPS, so I'm... I'm trying to work out which way 'home' is."  
  
"Well," Hinata begins, carefully, carefully, because he doesn't want to sound condescending to a girl who is very much armed if his guess about what her fukuro contains is correct, "do you want a little help working it out?"  
  
Relief makes her smile in earnest, and Hinata feels his face heat up at the way it softens her otherwise surprisingly stern face. Her hand tightens around the strap on her shoulder, the other on the school bag tapping against her thigh, and she nods. Her soft ' _tanomu_ ' is a little stilted, but Hinata only nods, and goes about asking her what's near her home, hoping for a familiar landmark. After all, he might know the town fairly well, but it's not his home either. She introduces herself as Toushin Oriha, hand twitching up for a moment, only for her to shake her head a bit and give a slight bow. Hinata bows back and introduces himself as well, and nearly combusts when she says 'Shouyou' with that same, warm smile. Her descriptions are a little odd, and it's not until he recognizes one of the places she mentions that he thinks to ask where she moved from, that she was so unfamiliar with the town.  
  
"Hawai'i," she says as he leads her, and the way she pronounces it isn't exactly the way he's used to hearing it, but it sounds cool, and Hinata is curious. Because that means she's American, but she looks and sounds Japanese, so– he must say as much aloud, because she laughs, loud and amused and despite his embarrassment Hinata grins.  
  
She informs him that her mother's family was from here, and her father was Japanese but had grown up in America. Hinata's soft ' _ohhhh_ ' is more out of enlightenment than curiosity, and when he doesn't ask her to elaborate, she doesn't. Instead, she taps him a little with her fukuro and indicates that they should pick up the pace. He asks her about her fukuro instead, earning a confirmation about the practice naginata contained therein, and when she asks him what his spare bag is for, he launches into talking about volleyball and Karasuno with unbridled enthusiasm. His fellow first-years receive much less enthusiasm, especially Tsukishima, but she listens as Hinata speaks, interjecting with a joke here or there about his teammate's personalities. Hinata chokes on seemingly nothing but air at them, and she gives him a grin that's cheeky and mischievous in a way that reminds him a bit of his middle school friends. He isn't bright enough to not outright say as much, but instead of being insulted, she gives a loud, pleased cackle, and Hinata finds himself delighted at the unabashed way she laughs– head thrown back, nose scrunched– at the comparison.   
  
In retaliation, she tells him he reminds her of someone she used to babysit, and the affronted expression on his face almost makes her double over as she giggles. Hinata opens his mouth to complain, to grumble that he's not a little kid and it's not funny to compare him to one, when the giggles abate and she gives him a warm, lopsided smile.  
  
"It's not a bad thing," she hums, fingers twitching as if she wants to reach out, eyes flicking toward the messy mop of his hair. "That kind of simple, good-natured attitude is more interesting in life than being boring and serious, if you ask me." Hinata blinks, surprised, and then grins wide, continuing to lead her along.  
  
Soon enough, she taps his arm to indicate she can make her way on her own, motioning at her roof with her thumb. She pauses before they part, hesitant, and then shakes her head, apparently shoring herself up and leans into his space, looking up at him with wide grey eyes under furrowed brows. From this distance, he can see that some of her eyelashes on her left eye are white, and he finds himself staring before her voice drags him back to the present.   
  
"...would you mind helping me out this week? Until I learn my way around properly, I mean?" It's asking a bit much, she thinks, but her phone won't be connected for a while, and it's not like she knows many people… and getting picked up would be embarrassing on top of everything else she has to deal with at her new school. Then she takes a page out of one of his friends' books, and with a grin adds, "I'll pay you in snacks."  
  
And Hinata would have agreed anyway, because Toushin-san was nice, and funny, and had a straightforwardness he wasn't used to from the girls around him, and he would have felt bad leaving her to fend for herself. But with the promise of snacks…  
  
"Sure thing!"  
  
With a nod, she turns to head away, only to pause, and then points her fukuro at him meaningfully.  
  
"Though next time, it's Toushin-senpai, alright?"  
  
"Sure, sure," Hinata agrees easily, turning to get on his bike and begin pedaling away. It's not until he's at least partway home that he realizes… "Wait, is she older than I am!?"  
  
  


* * *

  
  
"So was she cute?"  
  
He's telling Kageyama about Toushin as he shows up to change, and Tanaka's head swivels as he does, enthused to have someone else to tease about a girl. It makes Hinata's cheeks go rosy with embarrassment, hand reaching up to rub at the back of his head. He's hoping someone will rescue him from Tanaka's question, but Kageyama seems amused by his non-reply, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi both seem patently disinterested. It isn't like Hinata hasn't mentioned pretty girls in passing before (sometimes Shimizu is still too much to look at directly) but that's just it– it's only in passing. Hearing him talk about anyone not on the team or somehow related to it is novel, and as Tanaka inches closer, smirk ever-widening, he sighs, hand coming around to scratch at his cheek.  
  
"I mean.…yeah, I guess…?" His eyes lift up and to one side, bringing up Toushin's soft smile, her wide, pale eyes as she offered him snacks. "She's a little intimidating even with how small she is, but when she smiles it's like," he gestures with both hands, fingers spreading gently, " _fuwahhh_! The feeling is completely different, you know?"  
  
Tanaka does, for once, know what he means, nodding sagely as he crosses his arms.  
  
"Having a girl smile at you is one of the highlights of high school life," he says philosophically, and Hinata doesn't know if he really agrees, but he nods along quietly, at least until Tanaka pauses, suddenly, and then blurts: "wait, what do you mean 'even with how small she is'? It's not like you've got room to talk—!"  
  
That makes Hinata grin, and he puffs up with perhaps a bit too much pride, gesturing around where he remembers the top of Toushin's head being, roughly at the level of his chin. It's strange to think, considering the feeling she gives off is 'one wrong move, and you're in trouble', but she's definitely, definitely much smaller than him.  
  
"Yeah, I'm small, but Toushin is _really_ small," he says, though he immediately stiffens, looking suddenly aware of what he's saying. "Th-though I just mean— it's hard not to notice, you know? It's not that big a deal-!" What he's really nervous about is, in fact, what might happen if Toushin ever found out he'd called her short while looking so pleased about it. "…but it's still kind of cute," he adds, almost as an afterthought and Tanaka stares, disbelieving.  
  
"And she's a _high school_ girl!?"  
  
"Shouyou, lucky…!" Nishinoya cries, placing a hand on Hinata's shoulder, the other clenched into a fist in front of his chest. "That's the perfect height!"  
  
"She definitely is! She was wearing a uniform I recognize! From an all-girl's school, I think! The sister of a friend from middle school went there!" And then he pauses, looks down at Nishinoya, and realizes that he's right, and it would be hard to find a girl near his age a better height than Toushin for guys as short as them. "Maybe I'll introduce you…?" He offers, carefully, and the second years both put their hands on his shoulders this time, pride in their eyes.  
  
"You're such a good kohai, Shouyou—!"   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Toushin is, as it turns out, older than him.  
  
He asks when he meets her the next evening after practice, but not before she hands him his 'payment': a couple of fried onigiri-like things she pulls from a spare compartment in her bento, along with a separate one for herself. Her hair is pulled back in a braid today, and there's the flush of exertion Hinata knows well from training on her face, a few pieces of hair sticking near her ears from what he assumes is half-dried sweat. She consumes her own spam musubi (Hinata is surprised but intrigued and finds the flavor delectable) at an astonishing pace, and not to be outdone, Hinata tackles the rest of his first one with voracity. They talk about his club as they walk, with Toushin-senpai making sure to keep an eye on street signs as they go, until Hinata mentions the upcoming practice game, intending to ask her to come. She makes the mistake, then, of saying she's never been to a school sporting event because she'd never really been to a proper _school_ before– the concept of home-schooling is one Hinata knows, but doesn't _understand_ – and he swivels his head to stare at her with eyes wide as plates.  
  
" _Whaaaaaaaaaat_ –!?" He blurts, loudly, and gawks as she snickers.  
  
"Can't go to school sports if you weren't in a school to have sports played _at_ , Shouyou," she points out and the logic is simple and infallible, but he still stares at her, agog.  
  
"Come watch us then!" He blurts, voice too loud in the evening air. She stares at him, wide-eyed and startled, and Hinata immediately backtracks, worried that he's been too forward, considering he'd been trying to ease into it. "I mean– you don't have to! I just thought it would be nice, you know, if you got to experience it! I mean, not that you never will, since your school probably has teams and stuff too but–!"  
  
"...you seriously want me to come?"  
  
Something in her tone of voice makes Hinata's voice catch in his throat, halting his immediate response for a moment. The disbelief in her expression is well-hidden but evident to someone like Hinata, who she's realizing seems to have a knack for sniffing out weaknesses. He stiffens up immediately, eyes wide with determination, and nods fervently, hands curled into tight fists.  
  
"Definitely! Oh, hey! Maybe you should come to our next practice first! That way you know what's going on and Coach and Sensei can explain things you don't understand!"  
  
He says it with such excitement, such conviction, that she doesn't have the heart to tell him she _knows_ how volleyball works. Instead she lets herself be carried away by his enthusiasm, glad to at last have _someone_ to talk to who seems to actually want her around. She isn't entirely sure what it is (though she has an inkling or two) but the girls in her school are far from friendly, and she isn't the type to go out of her way to be polite to people who are rude to her. Hinata is the exact opposite of that problem though, and even as she accepts his invitation, she worries that she might get too attached too quickly.  
  
There's nothing wrong with making friends though, right?  
  
"I can try and make it to your practice before the holidays," she says gently, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips, "but I'll _definitely_ make it to your game. I can bring some friends if you like? To… cheer you guys on?" She's not sure if the girls will want to spend the last day of their visit watching the game, but that's a problem for the future.   
  
With the way Hinata lights up at the notion though, she thinks she's going to have to call in some favors to make sure they agree.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
When her phone is finally connected a couple of days later, the first thing Toushin does with it (after connecting her social media and texting her best friend) is ask for Hinata's number. He watches her save his name from the text he sends her as 'Shouyou! (๑❛ᴗ❛๑)' and goes pink from how cute it is. Having his number in a girl's phone isn't entirely a new experience (Shimizu has most of theirs saved, he thinks) but it being someone who isn't his team manager is, and he finds the idea a lot more exciting than he thought it would be.  
  
"I'll stop by your practice tomorrow?" She asks as they stop in front of the street they usually part ways, and Hinata realizes that this is probably the last time she'll need him to walk her home.  
  
"Sure," he says, and then continues, hesitantly, "I'll walk you home after?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan," she agrees without hesitation, and then waves as she turns to jog off, a bounce in her step that feels contagious.  
  
He's still feeling it the next afternoon, bouncing all the way to the gym. He's in the middle of warm-ups when he realizes he never told Toushin how to get to their school, and almost jumps back up to run out and grab his phone.  
  
_"They say I'm gifted, uh huh, well I'm a certified prodigy…! I'm gonna own you, uh huh… I'm gonna bring you to your knees…!"_  
  
He's stopped by a familiar voice sounding from outside the gym, half-singing an odd little tune in English as it approaches, and he swivels his head toward the door, watching as a familiar head of dark hair pops up at one of the windows, wide eyes peeking in briefly before disappearing. Some of the others have paused at the brief dark flash, and Tsukishima mutters something that sounds like 'that song's almost as bad as one of Hinata's' as the door slides open and Toushin pops her head in, the tune dying to a hum on her lips.  
  
"Oi," begins Ukai, arm stretching to cover the entryway as Toushin scans the gymnasium and Hinata pops to his feet, "what do you think you're doing here-!?"  
  
"Toushin-senpai!" Hinata cheers, diving forward and under Ukai's outstretched arm to take her hands, "you made it!"  
  
"Shouyou!" Toushin parrots, looking amused, "I said I would, didn't I?"  
  
"This is cute and all," Ukai interrupts, and Hinata peeks guiltily up at the tone in his coach's voice, "but who the _hell_ are you supposed to be?"  
  
Hinata has seen teenage boys twice Toushin's size balk under Ukai's glare, but the girl in front of him just tugs her hands out of Hinata's and stares back, grey eyes wide and head cocked. Her shoulders are tense, and when he peeks at her face, she's looking at Ukai like he's a _threat_ – but then Hinata is tugging her back, trying to shift her away and toward the team. He's stopped by Ukai's hand on his shoulder, and the man jerks his chin at her, saying sharply:  
  
"Hinata. _Explain_."  
  
"This is Toushin-senpai! I wanted her to learn some stuff about volleyball before she comes to our practice game!"  
  
Ukai turns to her then, motioning at her uniform, and asks:  
  
"Well you're obviously not from Karasuno, so how'd you get in here?"  
  
Toushin goes a little stiff at that, tugging at the pale strands next to her face. There's an obvious _guilt_ to that expression, even if she doesn't seem remorseful in the slightest.  
  
"Well I.…someone stopped me at the gate, so I just kind of," a motion of one hand going over the opposite forearm, "climbed over the wall? But then someone else tried to stop me, so I told them if they actually could then I'd leave." Her expression is less contrite then, and more self-satisfied, and she gives her fukuro a little tug as the corners of her lips turn up slowly into a little smirk. "But hey, they tried."  
  
Ukai stares at her, as if unsure what to do with that information, but decides he's better off not knowing what she's actually done. Plausible deniability absolutely works when he's not _technically_ the official coach, right? He can hope so. Beside him, Hinata gives a trembling mutter of _'so cool, senpai'_ that makes the girl laugh softly, and he decides he doesn't care enough to try and make her leave.  
  
"Oi, Shouyou, is that…? ...it's _you_!" Sounds from the other side of the gym, and all three of the people in the doorway turn, watching Nishinoya point at the girl with wide eyes, prompting a yelp from Tanaka.  
  
"The one you were talking about?"  
  
Nishinoya nods frantically, and beside Hinata, Toushin's smirk has shifted into something soft and surprised, her wide eyes trained on Nishinoya. Then her mouth twitches into a smile again, and she raises her hand, fingers flashing a v-sign with a laugh.  
  
"Hey," she says, expression sly, "you look a little more energetic today."  
  
"You know Nishinoya-senpai?" Hinata asks, looking between them with wide eyes and a curious lilt to his voice.  
  
"I'll tell you about it after practice," she replies, though her eyes don't move from Nishinoya, who's still staring back at her in shock. Her expression is odd, but not displeased, so Hinata decides it can wait. Then her head turns and she beams, pushing him toward the court. "So come on, show me what you've got, Shouyou…!"  
  
He cheers and bounces back to warm-ups, completely missing the way her head immediately turns back toward Nishinoya in the process.


End file.
